Chapter 11

On an afternoon on a rather nice Indian summer day, Laura had finished showering and was applying some orange blossom body lotion when she heard the footsteps outside her door. A firm knock.

Laura tried to comb her hair into shape with her fingers while walking over to the door. She looked through the peephole. She saw an unknown woman that looked like a bodybuilder. Somewhat apprehensive, Laura opened the door partially.

"Hi," said the woman with a hoarse and low voice. "I'm Margot Verger."

Laura could feel her cat brushing by her bare feet to get out of the house while she quickly deliberated what to do. She saw she was being appraised by the woman. She asked Laura if she could come in before Laura had thought of asking her in.

Laura glanced behind her. Callista would have to leave, she would ask her to exit by the back door. Laura looked back at Laura and assented. After fully opening the door, she moved aside to let her in and preceded her to the living room. She motioned for the couch.

"Take a seat and please wait. I'll be back in a minute."

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Margot walked over to the couch and sat down in the middle. The couch protested softly. Margot placed her big purse on her left and a small satchel on her right and watched Laura walk out of the room.

While waiting for her to return, she inspected the room. It was quite decent, clad rather in taste than wealth. She liked the way the sun lit and brightened the room through the funny small windows.

She noticed some clothing on the floor, out of place in the otherwise proper room. At further inspection, she saw it was two tank tops.

After looking around the room, she focused back on the business at hand. It was impossible to get the money in Geneva back. That was for sure. It was impossible, even without considering the letter that Laura had mailed Mason.

Margot was very surprised finding out Mason had not thought of the possibility that Pazzi would grant alternative signature power to someone. And because it had taken Laura so many months before she went after the money, Mason had not lived to learn about Pazzi's trick. It had been the letter that had lead Margot to the three million dollars lost in escrow in Geneva.

Then Margot heard some soft noises from where Laura was and some even softer voices. Instantly alert, her muscles bunched. Someone walking about, then a door closing. Silence followed. Full focus. Laura entered the room again and sat down in a chair facing Margot from the other side of the coffee table.

"I had a friend over, we're alone now," said Laura and managed to suppress a blush.

Margot frowned again, then understood and smiled. The extra alertness softly fell off her shoulders. Laura seemed very natural and level-headed.

It had taken Margot many restless hours at home thinking about the sudden claimer of the money. She had someone trustworthy do some research and when it turned out the claimer was Pazzi's widow, Margot was less troubled. Yet, it would be foolish to act on that fact. She had deliberated some more and decided she wanted to see this woman. It was a risk, but she had a gut feeling it was the right thing to do.

Laura somehow reminded her of Judy; their shared ancestry showed in their dark eyes and voluptuous brown hair. And they shared a certain stately carriage. But this was no time for pleasure, business had to be done. Now.

"Mason Verger is dead," she said.

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Doctor Lecter had already written her that, so it was no surprise to Laura. But apparently, Margot believed it would shock her, she was trying to mentally unbalance her. Seeing Margot, she knew that talking or responding would be giving in, would show Margot the cards in her hand, her state of mind.

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Margot waited, but Laura did not respond or react beyond a certain spark in her eyes. She had not anticipated that. She thought it best to just go on.

"I, being his sister, am responsible for his business now. All of his business."

Margot checked Laura's eyes to see if she understood.

After a short, dry cough, Margot continued.

"Tell me, why did you mail my brother the letter?"

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Laura knew lying would be foolish, but she restricted her motivation to logic. How she found the letter. That here were two things that could happen with the money: remain in the safe in Geneva until Kingdom Come, only profitable to the Crédit Suisse, or be released for Laura to use and enjoy. She told about her visit to Geneva, the found situation and the letter Rinaldo had prepared.

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Margot sighed and leaned back in the couch, her hands still on her purse and satchel. Laura was frank, that was sure. And straightforward. But something was left unsaid. It did not take her long to understand what it was; it was precisely what she had come for.

"But why did you post it only now? Why not sooner?"

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Margot hit exactly the sore spot, the side of the story Laura had been reluctant to tell.

"I did not think I needed the money."

Margot's bright blue butcher's eyes remained fixed on hers. Margot didn't speak and Laura started to think she might have made a mistake there. The silence that floated in the air was starting to suffocate her, but she decided she would not take back her words or pose, so she waited for Margot to be the first to speak again. She kept up under Margot's stare. Then, after seconds that had appeared as hours and Laura's heart had felt like a racing horse galloping, Margot spoke again.

"Half the truth is a lie. But I'll give you a last chance. Why not sooner?"

This was it, Laura thought. She had bluffed and now Margot had called.

"The man that Rinaldo had tried to sell to your brother wrote me a letter. He suggested I use the money."

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Margot's heart might have missed a beat there and then.
So Doctor Hannibal Lecter wrote Laura and suggested she should go for the money, she thought. The money that would have been paid for his death. He suggested to that corrupt cop's widow she should collect the cash meant for his corpse. Why would he have done that? For fun? To mock? Even if he knew Mason was dead?

"Did you ever meet the man?"

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Laura remembered that moment only too well. In fact, it was one of her dearest memories. And after reading Dr. Lecter's letter, she believed he had read her mind when he had kissed her hand that night.

Being treated gallantly is something completely different than being praised for beauty.

That's what he had written her. And it was true, every word of it. And he had been gallant. He had not given her horny hog's, but admiring owl's eyes.

"Yes, once."

Margot did not ask, but Laura knew she wanted to hear more.

"He was very gentle. It was very hard to believe he is actually a mass murderer. "

Margot nodded slightly.

"He was very courteous and gave me an antique score on parchment so I could compare it with the modern score. I still have it," she said with a slight blush. But she quickly recovered and continued her story.

"Then Rinaldo made an appointment with him to retrieve it, Doctor Lecter complimented me on my perfume and took his leave."

"So, what was in the letter?" Margot asked.

"He sees you and he knows you. Do you understand what I mean?"

Margot did not nod in agreement, but her eyes implored Laura to continue.

"He wrote me it would not be a sin if I would ask for the money. It was in escrow, your brother was dead, and even if he was still alive he could not have retrieved the money. It was being useless for everybody but the banker. He convinced me it would be okay if I would collect it."

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"Did you know it was Doctor Lecter that killed my brother?" Margot asked in another attempt to destabilize Laura. She immediately registered she had scored this time.

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All sorts of possible implications and questions welled up in Laura's mind, crawling over each other, screaming for attention.

Why did he kill Margot's brother?

Why did he write the letter if he had killed him himself? Surely not just to grant Laura the money - but why then?

And also very important: if Doctor Lecter killed her brother, how did Margot feel about her inquiries about the money, knowing he had suggested that to her?

The danger of her situation hit her then full force. Playtime was over. Definitely.

What was Margot going to do now?

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Perhaps Laura's distress even pleased Margot. She could see the stress taking hold of her.

Laura had made a very strong impression on her. She was no fool, but new to the business.

Margot's eyes left Laura alone and took another look at the living room. She really liked what Laura had done with the place; clad rather in taste than wealth, as she had thought before. Surely good enough to live, but it was so small compared to her own home.

And now, with the mansion being restored, and Judy pregnant, Margot had all she ever wished for. She was happy. The letter Laura had sent had been a serious threat. But now that she had seen Laura, she knew this loose end could easily be secured.

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Laura saw Margot's hand dive into the satchel. It disturbed her very much, since Margot had been very quiet for some time. What was she doing?

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Margot pulled back her hand and looked at the cell phone she held now. She punched up Geneva and spoke briefly into it. Then she handed the phone to Laura.

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Still somewhat shocked, Laura took the cell phone and listened. A man on the other side asked if she could hear him.

"Yes."

Then the man told her the money had been released and would be wire transferred immediately, as agreed, to the bank specified by her late husband. Then he thanked her and ended the phone call.

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Margot could hear by the sound of the phone and see from Laura's face it was done. She held out her hand, Laura returned the cell phone.

"Use it wisely. It is a lot of money, but it is finite."

Laura nodded.

"Have you considered leaving Italy?"

Laura nodded after a slight hesitation.

"Thank you," she spoke softly.

Margot looked at the woman and smiled.

"You're welcome."

Margot rose. Laura followed suit, then walked her to the door. There, Margot turned for a last time.

" I suppose not, but should you ever meet our mutual fiendish friend again, be sure to thank him for me. He'll understand," and with that, she opened the door and stepped out.

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Laura closed the door, turned and leaned her back against it. Slowly, she slid down the door until she sat on the floor. She cried a few tears and laughed quaintly.